


rebuild all your ruins

by ohfreckle



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Feminization, Lightning - Freeform, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: As Loki tries to settle into his new role on the ship, his thirst for his brother comes round to literally bite him in the ass.





	rebuild all your ruins

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Tongue In Cheek, an anthology dedicated to Thorki and one of my very favorite things, rimming.  
> If you'd like to get a copy of the anthology and support a good cause, it's still [available here](https://thorki-anthology.tumblr.com/).

 

The first time it happens Loki almost misses it.

He’s in the makeshift infirmary, tending to those who have been more gravely wounded. The ship isn’t exactly equipped for that purpose because thankfully even the rowdier revelries that went on aboard rarely ended in bodily harm, but between their basic supplies and Loki’s seidr, they can make do.

"Thank you, that will be enough," he says, accepting the last bandage from Brynn, a round-faced woman who acts as a nurse. He forgets about her as soon as he’s dismissed her, focusing on the task of closing and dressing yet another wound, and that’s how he almost misses her deep curtsy.

She even mutters something that sounds suspiciously like  _ your highness _ , but Loki has more pressing matters to tend to than berating the silly woman for addressing him how it only befits the king.

***

The second time it happens Loki is too distracted to care. 

Thor has made a habit of taking his evening meal amid their people in the dining hall. The austere room is lacking the grandness of the Great Hall and the multitude of delicacies served during Asgard’s sumptuous feasts, but it provides a sense of togetherness and belonging, a familiarity that is much needed during these trying times. 

The kiss Thor presses against Loki's cheek is familiar, too, and nobody bats an eye when Loki turns his head so that Thor's lips brush his own, either.

A young man serves them, filling their plates with a fragrant and hearty stew. He’s careful about it, the ladle in his hands shaking with nerves, and when he’s finally done and Loki’s stomach has already started to growl, he bends his knee first before Thor and then, after an awkward half-bow, before Loki as well.

Loki waves him away with an irritated motion, already dipping his spoon into the stew. How hard can it be to remember to kneel before the king and bow before a prince? But Loki’s got better things to do than educating other people’s ignorant children. Making the ship run smoothly is hard work, and Thor certainly doesn’t seem to mind the breach of etiquette.

***

The third time leaves him, quite literally, speechless.

Loki stands in the middle of the hallway, gaping at one of the girls who help out in the kitchen. She’s backing away with a string of stammered apologies, turning around and fleeing around the corner as soon as she deems it safe that he isn’t about to turn her into a toad.

Loki shakes his head in disbelief, huffing before he snaps his mouth shut with an audible click.

This has got to stop.

***

"This is your fault!"

The door to their shared room slides closed with a soft whoosh. Loki hisses, annoyed not for the first time that there isn’t a single door on this blasted ship that he can slam shut.

Thor is sitting on the couch and looking through a stack of papers, judging by his pinched look undoubtedly something as scintillating as budgets.

"I’m sure it is, brother."

Well, isn’t it nice that Loki’s distress is enough to pique his brother’s interest? Although Loki would prefer Thor’s instant refusal, perhaps even a little shouting, instead of merely calm acceptance. This mature side of Thor will take some time to get used to.

Sitting down heavily next to Thor Loki stabs a finger into Thor’s chest, repeatedly. "All. Your. Fault." The firm flesh under his finger doesn’t budge, only adding insult to injury.

"And what would that be? Tell me, Loki; I can only make it right if I know what I did wrong." Thor’s large hands easily catch Loki’s own, preventing him from stabbing him some more like he wants to. Or hitting him, or even better, turning him into the oaf that he is.

"If maybe you could stop pawing all over me, it wouldn’t have come to this," Loki grits out, tugging against Thor’s grip, testing its strength more out of habit than real anger. Thor’s hold on him is lax enough for him to break free anytime, but Loki finds he doesn’t want to. Oddly enough it’s comforting, soothing the irritation that’s gnawing at him.

"Do you know what they call me?" Loki heaves a great breath when Thor keeps silent, waiting him out.  _ "My queen," _ he spits out, bile rising in his throat now that the words are finally out.

Thor laughs.

Thor’s laugh is a beautiful thing, belly deep and infectious, and despite the resentment that’s bubbling up inside of him Loki can’t help but admire the way it lights up Thor’s whole face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.

"You only found that out now?" Thor huffs out between barks of laughter. He squeezes Loki’s hands, and now Loki is tugging in earnest, green sparks are dancing on his fingertips. "Forgive me, brother, but for being supposedly the intelligent one between the two of us, you sometimes are incredibly dense."

"You knew?" Loki asks, incredulous, finding himself at a loss for words for the second time that day. He shakes off Thor’s hands and hits him hard enough in the chest to make him flinch. "Does this feel like a woman’s punch?" He does it again, only to have Thor catch his wrists again, and this time there’s no breaking free, Thor’s grasp on him hard and unyielding. Heat rises in Loki’s cheeks as quickly as the wrath in his chest. 

"I fought to save their wretched lives, and this is how they repay me?" Loki squirms and writhes, trying to wrench himself free so that he can claw the idiot’s other eye out. Thor has stopped laughing, but his eyes are still smiling as if Loki is a child that needs to be indulged. "And you—"

"Will you stop it?" Thor interrupts him, a hint of steel in his voice. He releases Loki’s hands and grips his shoulders instead, jostling him hard enough to shake Loki’s balance. Loki ends up on his back, pinned against the couch as much by Thor’s hands as his somber one-eyed stare, something raw in it taking all the fight out of him. He nods, once, pressing his lips tightly together against any foolishness that might slip out.

"They mean no harm or disrespect," Thor says, his thumbs rubbing circles against Loki’s shoulders. It’s tender, soothing, and despite his intentions, Loki finds himself relaxing. "But you’re not exactly subtle about the fact that it’s you and only you who shares my bed." 

There’s no reproach in the simple statement, but Loki can’t help but tense, feeling caught. The looks men and women alike are giving Thor are hard to miss. Only a fool wouldn’t claim what’s his.

"And with you being the king that makes me the queen," Loki ends the thought. "Are you telling me that our people are dimwits who can’t wrap their heads around the idea of two men being equals?"

"Let’s call it old-fashioned, but yes," Thor says with a wry smile. He lifts a brow, a wicked glint flashing in his eye. "Or maybe they just hear you moan like a wench in heat every time I ride your arse."

"I don’t—" Loki starts, biting his lip when Thor rocks against him.

Once is enough to take his breath away, the hard ridge of Thor’s cock sliding against his own sending sparks of heat up his spine. Loki shivers, closing his eyes for a long moment before he meets the challenge in Thor’s eye. Curse his traitorous body for betraying him like that.

"No?" Thor laughs, low and intimate, the sound curling around Loki’s very bones. "How about I lick that cunt of yours and we’ll find out just how prettily you moan?" 

Loki‘s only answer is to spread his legs, allowing Thor to settle between his thighs. The unspoken  _ make me _ hovers in the suddenly hot space between them.

"Your clothes," Thor points out mildly. "Take them off, or I'll do it for you."

A flick of the wrist and Loki‘s clothes vanish. As enjoyable as Thor’s displays of strength can be, the last thing Loki needs is for Thor to ruin yet another perfectly fine pair of pants and tunics.

Fitting their bodies together on the narrow couch proves to be a challenge, but they somehow manage, both unwilling to part long enough to make it to the bed. Loki ends up with one leg slung over the back of the couch, and the other curled over Thor's shoulder, trapping Thor flat on his belly between his legs.

"I swear if you don't get on—"

Large hands pull the cheeks of his arse open, and Loki almost swallows his tongue to hold back the moan that threatens to claw out of him at the first swipe of Thor's tongue. There's no finesse, just the wet drag of Thor's tongue from his tailbone up to his balls, once, twice, lewd and intimate.

Loki can't help but arch into it, opening himself up even further. Gods, but he loves this, his arse getting wetter with every broad sweep, his hole twitching with every fleeting touch.

"Get on with it," Loki says, moaning low in his throat when Thor does just that, sticking his tongue out and rubbing it flat and filthy over Loki's hole. White-hot heat curls in Loki‘s belly and every muscle in his body goes taut all over. He wants to beg already, wants Thor to lick into him, stretch him wide, fuck him deep with his tongue.

What Loki gets are warm lips sealing over his hole, sucking hard. All he can do is screw his eyes shut and bite his lip against the sounds that are threatening to spill out of him as Thor’s mouth slides over his arsehole, soft, hot and wet, lapping at him with a quiet hum that travels all the way Loki’s spine.

More pressure then, the firm tip of Thor‘s tongue spearing into him while those soft lips keep sucking, spit pooling in the dip of his hole and dripping down his cleft.

The first spark of lightning sears him to the very core.

It‘s barely there, just a slight buzzing sensation tickling his hole, much more evident in the heavy smell of ozone that suddenly lingers in the air. But the mere thought of Thor using his power for Loki’s pleasure him makes him tremble, and he finds himself asking  _ again _ , his voice breaking around the syllables.

"Patience, dear brother," Thor murmurs, scraping his teeth over the tight furl of muscle. The sensation is sharp and raw, and Loki moves into it, seeking more with a needy jerk of hips that leads nowhere. Pinned and pulled wide by Thor's large palms he can only take what he's given: the sting of teeth against his rim, soothed away all too soon by soft, insistent licks; the prickle of Thor's beard against his seam, spreading the wetness.

Loki’s cock is hard between his legs, twitching with every spasm of pleasure that wracks his body. Taking himself in hand he strokes harshly, but it’s too much, not the sensation he needs.

He makes a desperate noise in his throat and sucks in a deep breath, feeling dizzy and oﬀ balance with the tight coil of need that keeps building inside of him like a rolling wave.

What a picture they must make. Thor’s broad shoulders spreading him open, his spine a powerful bow as he buries his face between the cheeks of Loki’s arse and takes him apart with lips and teeth and tongue.

"Fuck, Thor," Loki breathes, a shaky, thready sound he barely recognizes as his own.

Warm breath gusts across his hole and Loki’s hole clenches with anticipation. He feels like climbing out of his skin, stretched thin with need and arousal.

"Inside," he demands, sliding a hand around Thor’s skull, pulling him firmly where he needs him with his fingers scratching against Thor’s scalp. And then that tongue works into him slowly, firm and pointed, opening him up with soft jabs at his center, parting the tight muscle and coaxing it to relax, slipping inside.

Burning him from the inside out.

" _ Yes! _ " Loki shouts, the sound ripped out of him at the first prickle of lightning against his insides.

Oh…  _ oh _ … fuckfuck _ fuck _ …

Loki’s whole body locks, his muscles so tight he thinks he might shatter with the devastating pleasure of feeling Thor’s power  _ inside _ of him. It’s only a fraction of what’s he’s capable of, Loki can feel him rein it in, the excessive energy sparking from his fingertips and dancing over the back of Loki’s thighs. Every nerve inside Loki’s body thrums alive as Thor fucks him with perfect slick slides in and out, his lips sealed over the pucker of his hole, sucking hard with every small burst of electricity he pushes into Loki’s body.

Loki feels sore and tender. He’s so close, his muscles tight and shaking, his arsehole contracting, clenching down and trying to coax that wicked tongue deeper. He needs just a little bit more, just… gods, deeper…

He’s dimly aware of asking for it, squeezing his cock tight and spreading the wetness there, but the first push of Thor’s thumb into him still takes him by surprise. It shatters and lays him to waste, and he comes with his arsehole clenching and come streaking over his fist, keening while he rides out wave after wave of breathless pleasure.

"Don’t say a word," Loki sighs when he finally finds the breath for it. He’s still bent awkwardly in half, Thor’s hands on his thighs the only thing that’s keeping him from slumping into a graceless heap. 

"I wouldn’t dream of it," Thor chuckles, his breath hot against the cooling wetness between Loki’s legs. "Not before I’m done with you."

Loki looks down on him, aghast, and immediately regrets it. He may be a hero now, but he has no defense against his brother licking his lips, his chin and beard still wet from eating Loki out. 

Maybe being the Queen of Asgard isn’t so bad. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on [Tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [twitter.](https://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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